Page 62 of Vengeance

“Then show me all of you, Vengeance,” Chloe breathed.

He stared at her hand against his chest. “You might not like what you see.”

“That should be my decision,” she said.

“It’s not that simple,” he insisted.

“It is.” Her voice softened. “You don’t get to make my choices for me.” He knew she was right, but that didn’t mean he knew how to stop protecting her—even from himself.

“I didn’t just watch the recordings from the night you were taken,” he said.

Chloe frowned. “What? You told me that Dante forced you to watch them.” He had, but there was so much more. The confession had been living inside him since the night beneath the bridge. It had waited behind every quiet moment, and every shared cup of coffee. Every time she looked at him with trust, he wasn’t certain he deserved it.

“The night Dante took you.” The blood drained from her face, and Vengeance’s stomach twisted, but he forced himself to continue. “I was at the warehouse.”

“You saw me there?” she breathed.

“I was fourteen,” he said. Her hand slipped away from his chest. “My father thought that I should start learning the family business. I told him that I didn’t want to, but he gave me no option. A part of me was glad that I was there because it showed me what kind of monster my father was.”

Chloe pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “What did you see?”

“Enough,” he whispered.

“What does that mean?”

He closed his eyes. “I saw them bring you inside.” The memory had never faded of a small girl wearing pink sneakers with her hands bound. Her face was stained with tears. She was still fighting, and still kicking anyone who came close. “I saw you bite one of the men holding you.”

A faint, humorless laugh escaped her. “I remember biting someone.”

“You broke his skin,” he said.

“Good.”

“You kept screaming for your fathers.” Her eyes filled with tears. Vengeance looked down at his hands. “I watched from the hallway. Dante was the only one who knew I was there.”

“Why didn’t you help me?” The question was quiet, but it cut deeper than if she had screamed it.

“I was scared.” He hated the weakness in his own voice. “I was fourteen, and I was terrified of him.”

“You knew what he planned to do to me?” she asked.

“I heard him discussing the auction,” he admitted. Chloe turned away, and Vengeance felt the space opening between them. He deserved it. “I should’ve done something.”

“You were a child,” she reminded.

“So were you,” he whispered.

“You weren’t responsible for me.”

“I feel like I’ve been responsible ever since,” he said.

Her head snapped back toward him. “Is that why you came to Savage Hell?”

“Partly,” he admitted.

“Because you felt guilty?” she questioned.

“Yes.” The truth landed between them. She climbed out of bed, dragging the blanket with her as she crossed the room. Vengeance watched her pick up his flannel shirt from the floor and pull it on. His chest tightened. “Chloe.”